“It shows real character!”
“It shows that no matter how much money you make or how famous you get, what matters is family.”
“Yes! Friends and neighbors are an extension of family.”
“And in a small town, everyone is family.”
They all chimed in with agreement, like a gang of street urchins in an old movie. “Yeah! That’s right! You tell him, Gladys! Atta girl!”
“So if you’re not going to let us share in the joy of your big day, we just don’t know how to take it.” Neon sweatband shook her head and put her hands on her chest. “Our hearts might break.”
“You think about that, sonny.” Pink lipstick nodded once. “Come on, girls.”
They pranced away in a huff.
After my run, I went home to clean up and grab something to eat. I was hoping Felicity would be there so I could tell her about my encounter with the Prancin’ Grannies, but her car wasn’t in the driveway when I pulled in. It was funny how empty and silent the house seemed without her.
I showered and dressed, then discovered a Post-It note on the fridge. Eat anything you want in here! I’ve already photographed it! Beneath the words was a note in our secret code. Smiling, I puzzled it out—XOXO Felicity. I pulled the note off the fridge and stuck it in my pocket.
After I ate, I sat down at my desk in the downstairs guest room I used as an office to get some work done. I was sketching a rough outline for my testimony when my phone rang. Assuming it was Felicity, I smiled and answered it without thinking.
“Hello?”
“Dude,” Wade said. “You answered. Is that a thing now?”
Fuck. I rubbed my temples with my thumb and middle finger. “Not really. What’s up?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your engagement yesterday, asshole? I just read about it online.”
“I guess I forgot.”
He laughed. “What the fuck? Who is she?”
“Felicity MacAllister.” I knew I’d mentioned her to Wade before, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t remember.
“The girl from back home?”
“Yeah.”
“Kinda sudden, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I’ve known her since I was twelve.”
“You knock her up or something?”
“Fuck off. No.”
“Dude,” he said. “Doesn’t even matter. Don’t do it.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t fucking get married. It will ruin your life.”
“Is this the point of your call, Hasbrouck? If so, I’m hanging up.”
“I know it seems like a good idea now, but the shine comes off. As soon as the ink is dry on that marriage certificate, she will not be the woman you think she is. That’s what they do—they pretend to be cool so you’ll propose, and then they turn into crazy, controlling lunatics once they’ve got your last name. I’ve never been so miserable.”
“We’re different.”
He laughed again. “Truth, man. If I was you, I’d still be in L.A. fucking Zlatka in my Porsche.”
“I’m sure you would.”
“How’d you fuck that up, anyway? She was crazy about you.” He laughed unkindly. “Susie said she read somewhere it was because Zlatka didn’t like being submissive in the bedroom. She wanted to be the boss.”
“You’d have to ask Zlatka about that.”
“Dude, I’d totally let her tie me up and slap me around if she wanted to. You really broke it off because of that?”
“No.” My jaw clenched. “We fought all the time. It sucked.”
“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I’m stuck on this yacht in the Mediterranean listening to Susie whine about what a shitty husband I am day in, day out. Like, what does she want that she doesn’t have? She’s got the house, the car, the clothes, the vacations. I pay all her fucking bills. What more does she want from me?”
The answer was obvious, but I kept my mouth shut.
“Anyway, that’s all I’m saying. Everyone pretends to be someone they’re not to get what they want, and you can’t make anyone happy in the long run. Don’t even try.”
I was on the couch watching a baseball game and brooding over my conversation with Wade when I saw Felicity’s headlights in the window. A moment later I heard her come in the back door, and I turned off the TV. She’d be a better distraction than the game, and fuck Wade anyway, for telling me shit I already knew.